Meta-PhysicalFought writer's block.Meta-Physical in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Lost the plot.
Airhead (Oxymoron)Empty-headed.Airhead (Oxymoron) in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But so full of himself.
Unreliable NarratorSherlock Holmes stories?Unreliable Narrator in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They were doctored.
Relation-ShipsMother: scarlet ------ Father: blueRelation-Ships in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Over Before You Know ItCaught stealing.Over Before You Know It in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
(Just a short sentence.)
Youth and Age In theYouth and Age in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i don't believe in jesusno one celebrates losing virginity like they celebrate losing teeth.i don't believe in jesus in Free Verse More Like This
i don't get a dollar under my pillow for having sex with my boyfriend.
there are no doctors smiling at me when i tell them my cherry has been popped.
i am a whore for having premarital sex.
i am a tramp for loving someone enough to open my body to them.
no one celebrates losing virginity like they celebrate losing teeth -
but i slip mine under my pillow anyway, and in the morning when i wake,
there is a quarter and a tiny folded note:
"you are not a slut."
asymptomaticinability to stop self hatred,asymptomatic in Free Verse More Like This
migraine for almost two days straight.
no phone call back from my psychiatrist.
I am sweating.
it takes one typed letter for
your blog to pop up in my search history;
I'm not sure if you can call this poetry either,
though I can call the shots on what I feel.
(whether it is a burn or not - five hundred
miles does not mean that my heart doesn't ache so hard;
my body is quivering. I want to vomit.)
there are hickeys up and down my left wrist;
though they are not from kisses but the lips of
my nailbeds as I ran them over and over my skin.
this weekend I will have to explain to my boyfriend
why I don't use my pencil sharpener on art anymore,
but instead on my thighs - I will use the phrase
"a moment of weakness."
but you are not a moment, nor a fault -
you are caesar's downfall, though the whole
world will die knowing that it was his own blood
on his hands.
boys will be boysi was thirteen when my healthboys will be boys in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
teacher shrugged and said: "it
happens" in regards to rape.
he was a gym coach with a coffee
mug that read "world's best dad."
they gave me the one-in-three
statistic on a business card
during the half hour we talked about
sexual assault in class.
that number has become a top-heavy
fraction, though not top-heavy
the way boys like to hear of.
and i have learned that absolutely
no man will bend at the knees,
fold the way i have been told
to fold - for i have a flower
between my legs, and he has a snake.
i was taught to be lusted after
for my innocence, only to be tattooed
as guilty by a trial of my peers
in my high school lunch room.
my heart howls at the moon of knowing
i've had my phone number removed from
the contacts of those who loved me
before they dared to remove my rapist's.
the world may forever know me as impure
without looking at the hands of the boy
who touched me, without realizing that
they have dirt caked on their glasses.
and my war cries can
chille tidon the nightschille tid in Free Verse More Like This
i have to prowl
looking for a
to lay my
above the sheets,
both fans whirring.
and your arms
you may say i'm a dreamer, but i'm nota list of things i am not:you may say i'm a dreamer, but i'm not in Free Verse More Like This
no shitty ocean metaphors,
no poems about lovers and bones.
no girl with high school insecurities,
no misinterpreted radiohead lyrics
on the sidebar of a fifteen-year-old's blog.
a tea drinker, a book reader, a dreamer.
no dew drops of a saddened world
splashing on tin roofs or windowpanes.
no drawn out similes for depression or loss.
an ableist slur for the diagnosis of a mental illness,
starting with c and ending with y.
a lesbian. people are not their haircuts
or who they fall in love with.
no razored wrists and thighs.
no sick doggish romance.
no supermodel teen queen.
no irresistible object of sex and desire.
no poetess, no goddess,
but no less
than strengths and fallacies.
interlopershow me god the way your motherinterloper in Free Verse More Like This
knew him, show me the mark on
your body where he stopped
you from suicide, where he changed
your winters to summers and
address me by my first name to show
me that your respect for me hasn't
died, letter by letter, buried between
the bow of your hips alongside our
once-strong playground love.
tell me the preacher was lying as he
spoke of our comely desire falling to
the destructive hand of a deity no one
has ever seen, but feels as they speak
in tongues that never matched the ones i
spoke in to finally tell you that
i felt for you.
don't leave me in some drunken tantrum
across state lines, slurring words as
you try to tell me your love for someone
else is vivid and living in you, even in the
parts that have died away, breathing out
alcohol as you use the word "never".
curl into me with intimacy, touching the sadness
out of me, because i always wanted to be
the one you love, not the one you loved.
victims of changeonly a thin slat of light falls acrossvictims of change in Free Verse More Like This
the darkened room to rest on a wall
as lonely as i am, a wall that could
tell stories older than the blood in my body.
i think of how we are just people
who organize their lives and loves
into boxes of respective sizes, and
yet these boxes hold more than our
memories - they hold ourselves.
in this room, so many things have
happened: a lost innocence, a lost
virginity, a lost sense of self.
i cannot help but remember how this
room was just a futon and bunk-beds
when we first met, i also
cannot help but realize that this
room has cocooned and evolved
with me, over time.
in an attempt to rid you from where i
sleep, i switch beds.
in an attempt to rid you from myself,
i chance myself nightly.
and though i cannot see anything in
the unlit cave i call my bedroom, i
find comfort in the ceiling, for that is
where my memories, bad dreams, and
cold fusioni am a streetlight bellowing into yourcold fusion in Free Verse More Like This
the one half-working
and only so when inconvenient -
like a headache at three a.m.,
like anxiety when a
situation calls for silence.
the worst of you is gathered
in my claws -
together, we are death.
a love poemlike a dictionary ripea love poem in Free Verse More Like This
with salted, sun spotted
words that emanate power
and splendor, i am unable
to describe you.
no need to be hostilehome tongue dictatesno need to be hostile in Free Verse More Like This
that i speak of you
as if i leashed
the pain you caused
and walk it like a dog,
as if you still pin
me to beds the way i
pinned my suicide note
to my bedroom wall.
i no longer
wear you among
i no longer
taste acid when i
speak your name.
home tongue dictates
that i speak of you
because i hold your
glass jaw to the curb
with a lead foot -
the power you think
you have over me drowns
in the power i know i have
Mimicrymildewed [ghosts]Mimicry in Concrete Poetry More Like This
haunt the c.r.a.c.k.s in the w do not
l their voices
Safeshe tells me that they stole her wordsSafe in Free Verse More Like This
marked them in red and wrung them out dry
leaving her shockingly [bare]
so she took up her -sharpest- pen
and she c a r v e d out her words
[close to her heart they'll be safe]
Catch me if you canI’m the anorexic at the local gym whom everybody watches but nobody looks at.Catch me if you can in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I’m the bulimic at school whom everybody pretends not to know about.
I’m the girl in your gym class with too many scars to be telling the truth.
I’m the kid with her head down in the library who is always “fine.”
I’m the boy who 'fell down the stairs'...again.
I’m the child who doesn't show up for school lunch because it's too expensive.
I’m the teenager living a double life in front of your very eyes.
Catch me if you can.
ControlControl is everything. Self-control, that is. Control how you act, what you say, what goes into your body, and maybe — just maybe — you'll be able to control you are. Power is addictive; my drug of choice, but it comes at a cost. You see, what you don't learn until it's too late? Sooner or later, the need for control — controls you.Control in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Generally, I’m a good kid. I pay attention in school, earning the high grades that decorate my report cards. I may not be especially popular, but I certainly have friends. I usually do as I’m told, don’t flagrantly disobey rules, and I try hard to please people. I retrace my steps in my mind, searching for the slip — the fall — that landed me here, on this cool, clammy table, wearing not much more than a requisite thin gown.
A crisp knock on the heavy wooden door to the exam room startles me, bringing my attention back to my predicament at hand. After
better on your floor than ever in my bedi have not slept well without the aid of sedatives since you left.better on your floor than ever in my bed in Emotional More Like This
the dreams are screamers that set my lungs on fire and burn my body to bones and when i wake up, it is in a bed of ashes and i am alone to rebuild.
i am not a phoenix
and i cannot live on smoke.
the drugs, they dampen the ground beneath my feet, the air is thick with the tension before a storm that never comes, and i choke on every breath and wake from drowning without remembering the struggle. the memories elude me. the forgetting is, in a way, worse.
you used to be able to beat down the blaze, to pull me from the fire-pit before i settled in for the night. you used to make me feel safe.
in your bed, with you close, the dreams still came. they didn’t fear you the way they should have. but you displaced them, stood up to them and chased away the dark, and with you next to me, i slept better than i had in a year. because when i woke in the dead of night, when i cried and no one h
Lucidall this time she's seemed so nearLucid in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
her angel face you hold so dear
she'll find you in that darkest time
her eyes will speak sans reason, rhyme
in time you will remember things
of birds and bones and broken wings
of deadly secrets, shattered dreams
things left unsaid and silent screams
with open heart and open mind
stand in the rain and you will find
that healing lies in these things true
and to remember changes you
The Craft of the CraftPoems are sculpted.The Craft of the Craft in Philosophical More Like This
Stories are woven.
Final FarewellSlowly slipping away, she whispers goodbye...Final Farewell in Free Verse More Like This
Character's Plea to a Lazy Writer“Don’t leave me. Please,” he begged.Character's Plea to a Lazy Writer in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I sighed. “I have to. I don’t even know what I’m doing…”
“No one does, that’s the point! It’s a learning experience, and honey, you’re losing.”
“I’ve barely even done anything!”
“And that’s the problem. You can’t give up now! If you do, I’ll….”
“I’ll ruin my life.”
“I’m serious. Without you, I’m nothing.”
“You’ll be fine, Luke.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll become an alcoholic.”
“Sure you will.”
“And I’ll sleep with tons of women.”
“Not my problem.”
“And…I’ll…become an angry cat lady.”
“You’d need to be a woman for that.”
He pouted, grabbing my abandoned pencil and throwing it across the table
Spoiler AlertWhen we meet, I’ll be nineteen and you’ll be twenty. You’ll try to get to know me, and I won’t say much, but you’re persistent. And eventually, we’ll become friends.Spoiler Alert in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You’ll be in the dorm lounge one day, playing video games with your roommates, and they’ll all laugh at you because I’ll beat you. But you just smile along, because you know I’d beat all of them too.
On a Friday, you’ll ask me out for the first time. I won’t know what to say, so I’ll just accept, not thinking much of it. Then later that night after we’ve eaten ice cream and are sitting on a park bench, I’ll pretend I don’t want to kiss you. Even though I really do.
On the week of final exams we’ll be studying desperately in the library. I’ll be on the verge of tears—why do I even need physics anyway? I’ll groan and slam my head against the desk, and that’s when you’ll lean in close and
How to Annoy a WriterAsk them what they’re writing about.How to Annoy a Writer in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Tell them that their characters need more physical descriptions because apparently you’re too lazy to use your imagination.
Say that their writing reminds you of Twilight.
Tell them that their typing is distracting you from your T.V. watching.
Now turn on the T.V. REALLY loudly.
Call them an awful person for killing off one of their characters.
Whine about how you didn’t like the ending because “OMG how could you???”
Get mad at them for writing instead of doing something productive.
Rant about how much you hate your English teacher for forcing you to read.
Always use improper grammar and never punctuate your sentences.
Never. Use. Paragraphs.
Ask them, “What’s so great about writing, anyway?”
Then ask them why they want “to be” a writer, like that’s actually something you can achieve.
Call all writers antisocial, depressed, weirdos. Because, of course, all of them
I Don't Want Prince CharmingI don't want Prince Charming.I Don't Want Prince Charming in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I don't want someone who'll agree with whatever I say or do.
I don't want someone who compliments me even when I don't deserve it.
I don't want someone who showers me in gold, yet won't give me three words.
I want someone who doesn't need to prove anything to me for me to believe him.
I want someone who'll be honest with me, even when I can't handle the truth.
I want someone who I can have little arguments with who'll still stay with me.
I want you.
It's Not SexismMaybe I hold the door openIt's Not Sexism in Free Verse More Like This
because I don't want it to
ReliefHis lips never tasted as sweetRelief in Free Verse More Like This
as they did when gleaming with
those three words,
made everything feel
so much better
In That MomentHe couldn’t rememberIn That Moment in Free Verse More Like This
Whether it was when he first heard her laugh
Or saw the gentle twinkle in her eyes,
a grey shade of blue that he loved,
That he thought, “Is this what living is for?”
But then she looked at him,
Wearing her same carefree smile,
Filling a part of him he didn’t know was lost,
and found his answer
Ten Reasons Why...1. When you couldn’t sleep the night before because you were too busy thinking about her, but you don’t even mind.Ten Reasons Why... in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
2. When you can’t find your car keys to leave his house and he says, “Well, sweetheart, I guess you’re stuck with me.”
3. When you get in a fight with her but can’t stay mad ‘cause she’s just too damn cute.
4. When he kisses you on the forehead and you remember why you fell in love with him in the first place.
5. When you’re holding hands with her and your friends are around, laughing at you—but it doesn’t matter anymore because, hell, you’re in love!
6. When you watch him tickle his little sister and think how he’d make a great father one day.
7. When you wish you could wake up every morning beside her and realize you’re already there.
8. When he smiles at the world with a cute, cocky grin like he knows as long as you’re together, nothing else matters, and you can’
:: Lonely Consequence ::Forgive and forget...:: Lonely Consequence :: in Free Verse More Like This
Regret. . .
:: More Than You'll Ever Know ::Does it make you proud:: More Than You'll Ever Know :: in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
When you're the cause of someone's tears?
Does it bring you joy
Every time you insult the innocent?
Do you know what you do
When you speak with your vicious tongue?
Do you realize what happens
Every time you laugh at another's sorrow?
You see a woman with male friends
And you accuse her of craving sexual attention.
You notice a boy wearing glasses
And you tease him with the name "four-eyes."
There's a group of peace lovers;
You proclaim they're annoying hipsters.
The teenage boys who love each other;
You tear them asunder by calling them abominations.
Do you find pleasure
In being the source of a poor soul's agony?
Do you even think
Of what the consequences could be?
Does it satisfy you
To make someone feel inferior to you?
Does it quench your thirst
Whenever you rule over the oppressed?
If a young man loves writing poetry,
Immediately you dismiss him as a lonely loser.
:: Mental Illumination ::Emotionally strong;:: Mental Illumination :: in Free Verse More Like This
:: No More Pause Button ::I refuse to stop for anyone.:: No More Pause Button :: in Free Verse More Like This
:: The Certainty of Grudges ::Tell me.:: The Certainty of Grudges :: in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Why should anyone hold a grudge?
Is it worth the aggression?
Is it worth the pain?
Is it worth the spitefulness?
Is it worth the time?
What good does it do?
To always be angry?
To always bear hatred?
To always be upset?
To always bear ill will?
If a person holds a grudge?
Why can't they be honest?
Why can't they forgive?
Why can't they let go?
Why can't they move on?
If the other keeps going with their life?
Do they not deserve peace?
Do they not deserve serenity?
Do they not deserve tranquility?
Do they not deserve respect?
Because I am certain
That the only thing
Holding a grudge does...
...Is simply bring the bearer eternal sorrow.
:: Love, Hate, Relate ::Love me or hate me:: Love, Hate, Relate :: in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
You see, I am who I am
I am no one's slave
Kiss me with your lips
Embrace me with your true love
And I will be yours
Here is my answer
If you cannot respect me
Then leave me alone
:: Be That Somebody ::Somebody love me:: Be That Somebody :: in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
before I disappear.
Somebody tell me
that I'm important too.
Somebody show me
what it's like to live.
Because I don't feel
like I exist...
Because I don't...
Feel. . .
Anything at all.
:: Every Time... ::Ah, here you are...:: Every Time... :: in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
You've come with an almost
that dress suits you.
Whenever you're around,
the grass is greener and
the leaves are pristine.
Flowers embrace your glow,
blooming freely with love.
Your light-hearted kisses are
strong enough to melt
the coldest hearts, yet
gentle enough for reminiscing.
Fluttering wings caress
the most silent winds.
The waters shimmer from
your shining radiance and
every drop and splash
becomes wonderfully pleasant.
Even when there's darkness,
the plethora of stars
illuminate your beauty.
The sun and the moon
cherish you almost as much
as I do.
If only you didn't
meet autumn every year.
Innocence (73)Tired of mumbling when they mention your name-Innocence (73) in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Desperate, longing, to simply be sane.
Want to be free, to dance with the wind
No longer thinking what we had was sin.
Used to be open, carefree and young
Long before we knew how love truly stung.
Now so broken with patches and scars,
Thinking this plan has never been ours.
Sure there's a reason for every small tear,
But gratitude is something you will not find here.
Give it some time, let memories build up
Don't think about all the days now corrupt.
Oh to be innocent like I once was,
To answer my questions with words like "Because"
Without having to worry about things in the past...
Not really wondering how long we would last.
Of Two Different WorldsA world that is black and a world that is white,Of Two Different Worlds in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
One that is daring and willing to fight.
Another that's humble and quiet and true-
One that is me, and one that is you.
You, who were raised to be silent and calm
Crush all your hopes in the fist of your palm.
Never quite letting your heart to be free,
Wearing the glasses that make you not see.
I was the one who was timid and shy,
Raised to be gentle, taught to be kind.
Learning each day how to be who I am
I lock my feelings in tight as a clam.
But you have become someone scared as a deer
Instead of the world, you can only see fear.
Anger is something that you took in stride-
Something that you've simply learned how to hide.
They say I'm wild and a bit off my head,
Because I'm the kind that will not be led.
I make my own path, trying to fly
Letting them see that I can still cry.
These two worlds, so different, have come to a clash
And we've made a decision that seems quite rash.
But what has happened is, and what will be is done-